


Window to My Soul

by SunhatLlama



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Dammit Jim, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Jim, Hurt/Comfort, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy Friendship, Jim Has Issues, Jim attracts trouble like the plague, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Saves the Day, Leonard "Bones" McCoy is a Good Friend, POV Jim, POV Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Protective Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Sulu is an amazing acting captain, Suspense, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Whump, nothing ever goes right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunhatLlama/pseuds/SunhatLlama
Summary: They were taking their time, creeping slowly across the ground, taunting them, their low chirping increasing in volume as they got closer. There was nothing they could do. They were vastly outnumbered. The natives' natural body armor clinked loudly against each other, reminding the two men of the odds of survival.ON HIATUS
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Pavel Chekov & Hikaru Sulu, Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 24
Kudos: 32





	1. Regienal III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: General movie spoilers, some TOS references  
> Rating:T  
> .  
> Hello! This is my first fanfic ever written and I'm super excited to share it with you!  
> Beta’d by the awesome glassofwater. They were a huge help with this chapter.
> 
> (10-26-20): The first three chapters have been revamped and improved!

Window to My Soul

* * *

Some people say that the eyes are windows to the soul.

That they show the truth, no matter what face we put on,

Even if it takes a toll.

Some people say that your eyes can’t lie.

Everything is revealed when looked upon.

But who am I if blind?

* * *

_“The Eyes are the window to your soul”_

_-William Shakespeare_

* * *

Jim Kirk has always wondered what other people see when they look into his eyes. Do they see a broken man running from his past? Some kid trying to live up to his father's legacy? The perfect reflection of his father has breathed down his neck since the day he was born. 

He has always been told that he would never amount to anything. That he would be a disgrace to his family's name. Frank, his drunk, abusive uncle, drilled this fact into his mind. He took every opportunity he could to tell Jim how worthless he was. 

Jim seemed to drive everyone away. His mother ignored him. His brother left him. He couldn’t blame them though.

He knows that he reminded his mother of what she lost every time she looked his way. It didn’t matter how well he did in school, how much he excelled in his classes, it would never gain her attention. 

Part of him knows it wasn’t his brother’s fault. He knows that Sam couldn't bear Frank any longer, he knows that his brother had to leave. But why didn’t he take Jim with him? How could he leave him with Frank?

No one seemed to want to stay in his life.

He ended up spending years wasting his life getting into bar brawls and getting wasted any chance he got. His whole life spiraled downhill even faster after he drove the car off that cliff. He spent his days wandering around that small town in Iowa, not knowing what he wanted to do with his life.

But that all changed once Captain Pike dragged him off the floor that fateful night. The man gave him another chance at life. That was the day the universe told him he was destined for more. More than just a repeat offender, more than a drunken wanderer. That was the day he made the choice to change.

Jim joined Starfleet with a fresh start. He made it his goal to finish his studies in three years. He worked and worked to try and make a name for himself. To become known as James Kirk, not George Kirk’s son. To finally become his own person.

Then the Narada happened. Vulcan was destroyed, seven Federation ships were decimated, and millions of people were killed. It all had ended with him as captain of the _Enterprise._ Giving him command of the best ship, crew, and family. 

He wonders what he did to deserve that. How could he have gone from that stupid kid in Iowa to the captain of a starship? How could that messed up person end up becoming something greater?

People have told him that his eyes are the first thing they see when they look at him, piercing blue eyes grabbing the attention of everyone in the vicinity of his gaze. They always look there first. After all the pain of his past, all the things he has done, he is far from innocent. He doubts his eyes would show anything good inside of his damaged soul.

But why would his crew stick with such an unworthy person? Why would his family follow him if his eyes show who he is? He’s not sure he even knows what his soul looks like anymore.

…

..

.

What exactly do the windows to his soul reveal?

* * *

“Spock, do we have any information on their culture?” Jim turned in his chair to face his First Officer but continued to peer out the viewscreen with his sharp eyes. He was scanning the lavender planet with curiosity, the contrast of the illuminating hues against the blackness of space captivating everyone’s attention. 

They had been given orders by the admiralty to make diplomatic peace with the beings on the planet Regienal III. The species, called Kabids, had recently developed warp technology and Starfleet wanted them to join the Federation. Their planet had the potential for many great dilithium mining agreements and trade. According to the information gathered during the First Contact, the indigenous people living on the planet were an advanced bug-like race. They were bipedal, but often hunched over when traversing, and used all four limbs. Not much was known about them. The _Enterprise’s_ mission was to learn more about their culture and lifestyle while also creating firm diplomatic ties.

“Nothing has been recorded about their culture, Captain. The species appears to have only recently begun to advance, and fairly quickly too. These beings have developed most of their modern technology in the past 100 years. The _Endeavor_ stated in their logs that they were very curious people.” Spock’s monotonous voice called out from his station.

“So, we are dealing with highly intelligent bug people,” Jim stated. He raised his left eyebrow at the thought, though he couldn’t do it quite as well as his First Officer. That man’s brows could make you question your sanity. He would know, being at the receiving end of the Vulcan’s gaze far too often.

He couldn't help but think about their last mission-gone-wrong. They had been on a different diplomatic mission to discuss a new trade agreement on the planet Nubla II. That one hadn’t gone as planned—big surprise—and ended up with him, Sulu, and Bones stuck in a dingy dungeon because of a simple mistake.

Well, as simple as insulting the High Priestess by accident was. He honestly had no idea that flirtatious talk with the Priestess was considered taboo and very illegal on the planet. Spock probably assumed Jim was aware of that particular fact. 

_Note to self, read all of the facts about a planet in the debrief before beaming down to said planet._

Before he knew it, they were hanging from a stone wall in a dark cell. Apparently, the penalty for their crime was torture and then a painful death. Bones was none too pleased by that outcome and frequently complained about it afterward with many angry lectures about Jim’s irresponsibility and recklessness.

“Are you out of your corn-fed mind? You can’t tell me we’re actually going down there!” Bones exclaimed. He was scowling at Jim as he made frustrated gestures to the planet currently on their viewscreen. “We barely know anything about them!” 

Obviously, he was remembering their last experience too. After that mission, he could hardly blame Bones for his misgivings. Jim also had some doubts about the planet. 

“How else are we supposed to make trade agreements, Bones?” he asked from his spot in the Captain’s chair. He tore his eyes away from the brightly hued planet and turned his body so that he could look at the CMO.

The doctor scoffed, “Why would _I_ be needed for trade agreements?” Bones’ seemingly permanent scowl was becoming more pronounced as he spoke. “I've got stuff to do, a Medbay to run.” 

“That is, for once, out of my hands this time, Bones. You know it is protocol to have both the First Officer and the CMO join the Captain for diplomatic missions.” Jim’s lips curled into a smirk as Bones gave him an unamused look. “Besides,” he paused, “you will make the mission much more interesting.” With a knowing smile, he turned around before his friend could make any more complaints. “Uhura, meet Spock, McCoy, and I in the Transporter Room in an hour.” Incoherent mumbling could be heard behind him as Jim spoke, though he thought he could make out the words 'Dammit Jim’.

“Yes, Captain.”

Jim stepped over to the Lieutenant's station. “Apparently the Universal Translators don’t work on their language, so I’m going to need you for the negotiations.” The communications officer nodded her understanding. “Sulu, you have the Conn.” 

He turned around and strode confidently towards the Turbolift, not waiting for a reply. His black boots clicked evenly across the floor as he walked. He stepped inside as the door opened with a hiss, sighing when he noticed Bones sliding in next to him. The scowl adorning his friend’s face was a telling sign of the tirade about to ensue

XXXXXX

The landing party of six all stood on the transporter pad, their bodies clad in their fancy uniforms, with phasers and communicators on their sides, waiting for the coordinates to come through the computer. They only wore the attire for diplomatic missions when they were supposed to impress someone important. Jim never liked the feeling of them. The fabric clutched his neck a little too tight for comfort. He didn’t enjoy the scratchy texture either, and neither did Bones. Jim could see the man fidgeting with his collar out of the corner of his eye, the doctor’s face no doubt twisted in a scowl. He heard a string of curses come from his mouth, murmured under his breath. 

“Feels like my neck’s in a sling,” Bones huffed only loud enough for Jim and Spock to hear. He continued to pull at the tight fabric with his pointer finger, quickly bringing his hand back down to his side as Scotty stood up. Jim couldn’t hold back his smirk as he looked at the grouchy doctor.

Scotty held a PADD in one hand and was looking over the information listed. “Alright, Captain. I have the coordinates confirmed and am ready to beam you down. I’m going to beam you 3.2 miles away from the nearest settlement, any closer and we risk you materializing somewhere…unpleasant.”

Jim looked to Bones, and the man glared back. He could see the irritated skin underneath the doctor’s chin from where he’d scratched turning red already. Bones’ grip on his medkit tightened in preparation for the beam down. 

“Energize, Mr. Scott,” Jim chuckled softly.

“Aye, sir.”

The familiar light surrounded them as they were beamed down. Jim felt a slight tingling feeling in his fingers and toes as he materialized, as if his limbs had fallen asleep for a few seconds. His boots were no longer touching the cold, hard surface of the transporter pad, but were instead being grazed softly by pink blades of grass. Jim opened his eyes to the bright light of the sun, the rays blinding him for a few seconds. He brought his hand up to his head to block the piercing glare.

The sight that met him was breathtaking. It was _beautiful_.

They had beamed down in a small field, a haven amongst the thick forest around it. The ground beneath his feet was a deep blue, the color akin to what the ocean looked like on a stormy day. The soil itself was damp, almost as if it had just rained, but it wasn't muddy. The pink foliage that surrounded them was prolific and seemingly overgrown. Every plant that would have been green on Earth was instead a variation of pastel pink or purple. The towering trees above them were similar to the ones native to Earth's Amazon Rainforest; their thick canopy blocked most of the sunlight from reaching the mossy floor. Their branches reached high into the sky, and their vines draped across every surface. 

There wasn't even a passing cloud in the light blue sky. The atmosphere above them seemed void of any weather disturbances. He could see the sun slowly arc the sky, the bright beacon moving surprisingly fast.

"My God, it looks like somethin' from my daughter's fairy tale holovids!" Bones exclaimed. He stared wide-eyed at the landscape around them, forgetting his usual re-materializing nausea.

"I think it is beautiful, Bones," he commented, scanning the sea of pink grass in awe.

"It is quite interesting." 

They both turned to look at the Vulcan. "What about it’s interesting?" Bones asked, lowering his eyes to squint at Spock.

"It is interesting that everything here appears to be a bright pink or purple color. It is usually unlikely that they would be this color since normally plant cells are filled with chlorophyll."

“Well, maybe _these_ plants are different.”

"Obviously, Doctor."

"How about we just take a sample back with us, hm?” Jim interrupted. "Then we can find out." He raised his eyebrows at his two friends.

"Yes, Captain," they said in unison.

Jim pulled out his communicator and flipped it open. “Kirk to Enterprise.”

“ _Enterprise to Captain Kirk, responding,”_ Sulu replied, a slight static edging the connection.

“The beam down was successful, we are now on our way to the city.”

“ _Enterprise to Captain Kirk, acknowledged.”_

Jim snapped the device shut. “Okay, guys. Let's get moving, I don’t want to get stuck out here at night.” He nodded to the other red shirts. “Spock, which way did Scotty say the city was in?”

The Vulcan pulled out his tricorder and scanned the information listed. “According to Mr. Scott’s information and my tricorder readings, the city should be in that direction.” He pointed towards the setting sun. “If we start walking now, we should get there before nightfall.”

“Then that’s where we’re heading.”

XXXXXX

Jim led the group, followed closely by Bones and Spock. The Vulcan kept his eyes on his tricorder, only looking up to see where he was going. Bones, on the other hand, wouldn’t stop talking. Jim didn't know how much more of his complaining he could stand.

"Dammit, why is the air so moist?" Bones growled, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

"We are in a _rainforest,_ Bones," Jim replied exasperated. "Stop complaining, this is going to be fun!"

"Yeah right. Don't look at me when this all goes to shit."

"Why can't you ever be positive?" Jim smiled brightly at him.

Bones stepped over a large stone, glaring at the ground. "Whenever you're involved, nothing goes right, Jim."

He scoffed playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just promise me you'll be careful this time," Bones sighed.

"Of course."

XXXXXX

The landscape didn’t change much as they went further into the forest. The air still felt humid and moist, but it wasn’t hard to breathe it in. Most of the trees were the same species, their limbs were still covered in vines like Spanish moss. The crew’s feet left slight imprints in the ground as they walked, the footsteps echoing across the trees.

Jim never realized how quiet it was until everyone had stopped talking.

Now that he thought about it, there was no continuous hum of insect wings. There were none of the familiar sounds of small animals scurrying across the trees, and there was not one bird roosting among the branches. He couldn't hear _anything_ other than their footsteps.

A growing feeling of unease pooled in his stomach.

“Spock.”

The Vulcan looked up from his device, his eyebrow raised. “Yes, Captain?

“This is a class M planet right?” Jim continued walking through the pink underbrush, stepping over a fallen log, and pushing a stray branch out of the way.

“Indeed it is.”

“Then why haven’t I seen any animal life?” He stopped where he was and turned around to the rest of the team. “You would think a planet like this would be swarming with life other than plants.”

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen anything either,” Uhura added.

Spock tapped his tricorder a few times. “My scans relay the same information the ship gathered in its scan. According to this, the planet is swarming with plant _and_ animal life.” His lips curved into a small frown and he looked at Jim strangely, his expression sounding off alarm bells in his mind. “It says that there is a very diverse and populous amount of insect life.”

A pause.

“And there are no bugs to be seen,” Jim sighed.

Bones cast a worried look at him. “Is that a bad thing?”

“That depends, Dr. McCoy. Our false scans could be one of three things. Either something naturally occurring on the planet is messing up our scans, the natives possess a device that can disrupt the correct transmissions, or all of the animal life on the planet lives underground.

“And since there are still flourishing natives living here, I do not believe all of the animals on this planet live beneath the surface,” Spock explained.

“So either we are walking into a trap, or the natives are innocent and actually want to make diplomatic peace with us,” Bones stated.

“Yes, you are correct.”

XXXXXX

“How far are we from the city?” Jim called out to Spock. He and Bones were ahead of the rest of the group—far enough to talk with privacy. They had been walking for about thirty minutes. They were all on edge and the silence wasn’t helping. Jim was beginning to think that they should have gone back to the ship. The sun was past midday and he _really_ didn’t want to find out what the place looked like at night.

“About 40 minutes, Captain.”

Jim sighed. Something about the place made him uneasy. The entire planet felt unnatural without noise.

Jim was used to sound, his home back in Riverside was never quiet. The soft buzzing of bees in the day, and the familiar chirping of crickets in the night. The town was always busy, and the distant cacophony of the shipyard could be heard for miles. 

Even the _Enterprise_ made noise. There was a constant humming sound emanating from it, the ship was never silent. Its gentle vibrations always relaxed him. 

Places like the jungle were supposed to be filled to the brim with life, there was _supposed_ to be sound. It felt empty, dead. Completely and utterly silent. Nothing to hear except his own thoughts. Jim shivered, memories from his past lurking in the back of his mind.

He shook his head. _Don’t think about it_. 

For some reason, he didn’t think that was the reason for his unrest. Ever since they had entered the forest, the feeling of being watched had hung over him like a haze. He almost brushed it off, tagging it as paranoia, but in the end, he hadn’t.

“What are you thinking in that brain of yours?” Bones murmured as he leaned closer to Jim. He must have noticed the growing frown on his face.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Oh, _now_ you’re having doubts?” 

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bones scoffed but didn’t say anything to that. “What’s got you on edge?”

“I have the feeling that we are being watched.”

Bones stopped walking, grabbing hold of Jim’s arm and tugging him back with him. “Are you sure?”

Jim paused before replying. “Yeah, but I might just be paranoid. Let's keep moving.”

“For some reason, I highly doubt it's only paranoia,” Bones sounded hesitant. He paused studying Jim’s face. He then looked into his eyes questioningly.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, causing Bones to glare at him. “Okay, okay. This place is just too quiet.” _Too many opportunities to think._

Bones’ eyes lit up in understanding. The grip on Jim’s arm squeezed reassuringly before they started walking again. “Well—” 

“Captain,” Spock interrupted.

Jim turned around quickly to the Vulcan, snapping to attention. “What is it, Mr. Spock?”

The man looked uneasy, his posture stiff and tense, and his pale fingers seemed to turn even whiter as his grip on the tricorder tightened. “I am getting a reading I don’t understand,” he replied stiffly. “There appears to be a large mass of lifeforms coming this way, very quickly.”

“How quickly?”

Spock didn’t say anything, instead, he seemed to be listening for something. 

It started as a low hum. At first, Jim thought it was the sound of a vehicle, the volume increasing as it got closer to them. Then it started buzzing, its vibrations causing their ears to ring. He looked around at the others, covering his ears as the sounds reached almost unbearable levels.

“Phasers on stun!” Jim tried to yell at his crew, but the buzzing drowned out his voice like a suffocating haze of silence. No one could hear him. His eardrums throbbed with pain, scrambling his thoughts as he tried to think. Jim could see Spock open his mouth to say something, but his voice too was engulfed by the sounds. The Vulcan pointed at his tricorder, mouthing words he couldn’t hear. Jim paused, looking at him with confusion. _Ah._ Then it all clicked into place.

The large mass was upon them.

Jim stepped towards Spock, reaching for the device, when a swarm of blue and purple creatures burst out of the bushes. They were the Kabids. The spiky, mantis-like people were hunched over in a circle around them, their bony backs arching towards the sky, slashing at them with their curved claws. Their mouths were open in what looked like a warrior's cry, and their throats seemed to be vibrating.

Clicking, not buzzing, he realized.

The crew backed away, raising their drawn phasers at the seemingly hostile natives.

“I am James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_. We come peacefully,” he tried to soothe the agitated creatures, but it only seemed to make them angrier; their shrieks rose in volume. Jim backed up as they got closer, putting his hands out in front of him.

He was about to tell the others to drop their weapons when a sharp movement from his left caught his eye. A native was lunging at him, and the bright shine in its beady eyes seemed ready to kill. The massive scythe on its arm gleamed dangerously in the setting sun as the magenta Kabid came closer to reaching its target.

Time seemed to slow for Jim. His body was frozen in place, watching the assault happen in an almost detached way. He stood there, staring at his attacker. From an outside perspective, he would seem calm. On the inside, he was screaming for help. 

The claw sliced through the air like a blade, whistling as it was brought down. The mantis’ feet moved soundlessly, similar to an assassin lurking through the night. Jim’s body tensed in anticipation of the attack, and he closed his eyes. Reflex brought his arms up to protect himself, and he dropped his phaser to the ground.

A sharp yell rang in his ears, and he was shoved harshly to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He lay on the grass, dazed, wheezing to try and catch his breath.

“Jim!” Bones rushed over to him. The doctor grabbed his arm and helped him stand, instantly looking over him for any signs of injury. “You okay?”

He could feel a slight twinge as he stretched out his muscles. Looking over his limbs, he found a shallow cut on his forearm; blood trickling slowly down to his elbow, the crimson dripping and soaking into his shirt. “I’m okay, it’s only superficial,” Jim replied, stepping away from Bones as the doctor tried to come closer.

“For you, ‘okay’ could mean you're bleeding out,” Bones looked at him pointedly, crossing his arms across his chest.

The clicking of the Kabids had died down; sounding almost like purring as they surrounded them. Jim turned his attention to his team, hearing the whirring of Bones’ tricorder in his ear. The two security officers had rushed over to Jim’s side and were blocking him from the natives while Spock and Uhura had hurried to placate the mantises.

Jim didn’t recognize the hand language they were using, but it seemed to be working. The Kabid that had attacked him seemed calm; it stood there looking almost embarrassed as Uhura explained who they were.

Jim bent down and tried to rub the brightly hued mud off his pants, the soil had painted them blue, and grabbed his phaser out of the grass. He tried to step towards his First Officer but was dragged by the arm back to Bones.

“No, you don’t. I’m not done with you yet.”

“I’m fine, Bones.”

“I need to bandage that laceration. I don’t know what kind of diseases they got here, but I don’t want to find out. And—”

“It’s fine,” Jim interrupted.

“—I don’t think you want to be stuck in sickbay for any longer than you have to,” Bones scowled.

Jim stopped. “Point taken.”

The doctor opened his medkit and proceeded to cut the sleeve off of Jim’s uniform _,_ wrapping the wound with the bandages. _Dammit, not again._ “You will need to visit Medbay when we get back, but you’re fine for now.”

Jim opened his mouth to complain but was cut off as Uhura and Spock approached him. Both appeared uneasy. Spock’s posture seemed stiffer than usual, and Uhura’s face was twisted in a grimace.

“Uhura, what’s going on?” Jim's gaze was switching between her and the Kabids as he spoke. The creatures’ claws and bodies reminded Jim of the praying mantises back on Earth. Except these’ heads extended two feet above his. 

“The Kabids would like to apologize for the attack. They did not know if we were enemies or not.” She eyed his bandaged arm. “They would like us to come back with them to the city; their leader, Ti’Bala, would like to meet us.”

“They try to kill us, then welcome us with open arms,” Bones grumbled. The doctor put his tricorder away with a scowl on his face.

After a moment of hesitation, Jim made his decision. “Okay, then. Tell them we would be honored to meet their leader.” He pulled out his communicator as Uhura turned to the natives. The familiar noise rang through his ears as he flipped it open. “Kirk to _Enterprise._ ”

A pause.

“Kirk to _Enterprise_ ,” he said louder. He flipped the communicator closed and clipped the device back to his belt. “Uhura, try to re-establish communications with the ship when you’re done.” _First faulty sensor scans and now this?_ Jim sighed, “Spock, can you find the cause of the disruption?”

The Vulcan pulled his tricorder out, scanning the vicinity. “There appears to be an atmospheric disturbance in our area. It is possible that the storm is blocking out our communications.”

“Is there a way around it?”

“Not unless we move a significant distance away from the disturbance.”

Dammit. That meant more time without backup from the ship. “We’ll have to go with the Kabids and wait out the storm. We can't leave, and no one can beam down until the interference is gone.” His voice was regretful but confident.

“Captain, is that a good idea at this time?” Spock looked pointedly at the natives’ claws. He seemed hesitant to go along with them.

“Probably not, but we don’t have much of a choice.” He glanced at the crowd of mantises and noticed they were converging into a group, waving the crew forward with their three-clawed hands as if asking them to follow. The soft chirping of their voices never stopped. 

Jim withdrew his phaser and nodded respectfully. “Be careful guys. Try to look as friendly as possible.” He stared at Bones while he said that, noticing the scowl on his friend’s face. The expression lessened and Bones rolled his eyes.

“Fine, but you’re not getting a smile out of me,” Bones relented.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The Kabids stepped forward, beginning to walk back to the city, their small feet barely making a noise as they walked. Apparently, there was only one major city which they called ‘The Capital’. It was where most of the Kabids lived and where all diplomatic relations were held. Bones and Spock were right behind Jim as he began to follow, Bones on his right and Spock further back over his shoulder. Jim assumed it was to keep a closer eye on Uhura. 

“This is giving me a bad feeling, Jim,” Bones murmured into his ear. 

Jim glanced at him before replying. His friends’ knuckles were turning white from the tight grip on his medkit.

“Me too, Bones. Me too.”

* * *

Soft whispering was coming from the top of one of the buildings. Two Kabids were conversing quietly; a light purple mantis with two long spikes on his head and a smaller, dark blue mantis, who were huddled close to the edge. Their words could not be heard by the unsuspecting group of off-worlders entering the city below.

“Is that them?” a small voice croaked in Standard.

“Yes, we need the one in front for this to work.”

The smaller one fidgeted his legs and looked down at his feet. He was nervous. Being so close to his leader made chills go down his spine. “The gold one?” His voice didn’t waver.

“Yes, I need the Captain.” He was eerily calm as he spoke, the words sliding smoothly out of his mouth as his carefully thought out plan was finally coming to fruition. He stared at the one in gold, slowly rubbing a hand over the sharp protrusions on his forehead.

“I see O’Chibi failed his task.”

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammered cautiously.

The mantis hissed angrily, his segmented tail swishing across the ground. “Send him to the Nyokaeim.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned his gaze to the off-worlders. “Should we take the one in blue next to the captain?” 

He thought about it for a minute. His bug-like eyes began scanning the humans below and stopped on the two inseparable ones. 

Silence.

“Yes, grab them both. This will be most interesting.” A sinister smile crept up his face at the thought.

  
  



	2. The Swarm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: General movie spoilers, some TOS references  
> Rating: T
> 
> Hello! I just wanted to shout out and thank everyone who left kudos/comments or just read the story! Big shout out again to glassofwater for helping me so much. 
> 
> Thank you IncredibleLiar, Dragon_Empress_First_Of_Her_Name, kalima, Enygma0710, and all those guests who left a kudos! 
> 
> In response to redford, I hope that you enjoy this update. I plan on writing Star Trek fics for awhile :)

The Kabids ended up leading them to what appeared to be a guest waiting area. The room contained a long table, adorned with various types of food and drinks. Across from it, there was a hallway full of doors, of which Spock informed Jim to be bedrooms, each filled with modest accommodations. The room itself was oddly normal. It was like they were back on Earth, and even the smells were the same. It was far different from the exotic and geometrically perfect buildings they had seen on the way there.

The natives that had escorted them there seemed to be in a hurry, as they didn't even stay to see if they needed anything. One stayed behind to inform Uhura that their leader would come there to meet them shortly, but he left too after passing on the message.

Jim had just finished inspecting the delicious-looking food and drinks when he noticed Spock staring intently at a green mottled fruit on the table. "Spock." He strode over to the Vulcan. "How do you feel about this place?"

"I am intrigued by how they were able to replicate what a normal house on Earth looks like, even if it isn't modern. This certainly isn't designed for their use." He picked up a chair to prove his point. It was made of wood and didn't have a speck of dust on it.

The thought of the Kabids' spiky bodies sitting on the flat surface removed any doubt from Jim's mind. "I agree. Something is going on here," he said, pausing to think. "Did the _Endeavor_ share any information about the way Earth homes look?"

"If they did, they did not report it."

Jim stayed silent. He began to look at the room more suspiciously. The wooden walls were decorated with tan wallpaper and had black metallic lamps hanging from them, the light illuminating the room just enough to give it a warm glow. There was a brick fireplace covered in pictures of various Kabids centered towards the far side of the room; the people looking happy and content. The stone floor housed many decorative rugs and various chairs, and there was even a desk covered in random office supplies, the brightly colored sticky notes clinging to the sides grabbing Jim's attention. He could almost call the room 'homey'.

Jim picked up a colorful candle that was on top of the fireplace's mantel, studying it. It seemed brand new, the wax perfectly smooth and untarnished. He turned it upside down to see the bottom, eyes widening when he saw a tag. "Uhura?"

"Yes, Captain?" she replied from the other side of the room.

"I need you to look at this."

She tore her eyes away from the painting she was examining and stepped to his side, her footsteps echoing across the room.

"Isn't this…?" Jim started.

Her eyes lit up in recognition. "I've seen that brand before. I bought one last time we were on shore leave," she said, her fingers tracing the tag.

"What's a candle from Earth doing here?" Bones asked, walking closer to the two.

Jim didn't reply. The only way it could've been possible was if Regienal III had already been trading with Earth. "Sturgeon, Smith, secure the room. I have the feeling we are being lied to," he ordered, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Yes, sir," they said together. The two men started to explore the strange hallway, phasers drawn and their steps cautious as they moved.

Jim met Spock's gaze and it seemed as though he agreed. He put the candle back and walked to the other side of the room.

Bones quickly followed him, scowling."What do you mean, Jim?"

Jim turned around to face Bones. "I mean that someone else from Earth has already been trading goods with this planet," he replied, his expression serious.

"You think Starfleet's behind it?"

Jim sighed, "It's possible, but I don't think so." He came to a stop, leaning an arm over a chair. "I think our hosts know more than they are letting on."

"Well…what do we do?"

"There is nothing we _can_ do. We can't beam back to the ship, communications are lost, and we still have a mission to complete." He pulled out a chair from the table, the legs scraping loudly across the ground, and sat down. "For now, we wait," he added, leaning an elbow on the wooden surface and resting his head on his hand.

Jim rubbed his forehead. He didn't get it. Something wasn't adding up. Was it only a coincidence that after they had beamed down both transporters and communications stopped working? And what about the faulty scans?

Not to mention the weird behavior of the natives. The aloof way they viewed the attack was concerning; they didn't seem to have guilt. There was also the way they left so suddenly after arriving in the city. One by one, the group they first met had dwindled to just one as they got closer to the guest building.

He massaged his eyes tiredly. Maybe it _was_ just paranoia. The natives were probably always like that, and perhaps there _was_ something in the atmosphere making the scans change.

He lifted his head off of his hand, turning his attention back to his surroundings. _Gotta stay vigilant._

"Got something on your mind?" Bones looked at him, brow furrowed. He had grabbed his own chair a couple of spots away from Jim and was sitting with his legs relaxed out in front of him.

"Nah, just tired," he replied.

Bones scoffed. "Well, maybe if you got more than five hours of sleep every three days you wouldn't be so tired." He gestured at him.

Jim rolled his eyes, ignoring the comment, and went back to studying the room. He scanned the surface of the table in front of them until a pink fuzzy fruit caught his eye. It was the color of dragon fruit and appeared to have hairs similar to brown coconut fibers. His stomach growled at the sight. He reached out at the bowl of brightly colored food only to have the CMO smack his arm.

"Ow!" Jim glared at his friend, rubbing the limb with his hand.

"No, you don't. I am not going to fix you when you have an allergic reaction to these goddamn space fruits," Bones growled. "With your track record, I wouldn't be surprised if you had a reaction just by looking at them."

"You're no fun, Bones." He crossed his arms across his chest. Bones never let him eat anything fun. It wasn't like it was _his_ fault his immune system was shit. Jim couldn't exactly blame him for being cautious, though. With his luck, it was a surprise he was still alive. He had to give his best friend credit for that, he would have been dead a long time ago without his trusty CMO.

"I think your idea of fun is different than mine," Bones said flatly.

A steady set of footsteps from behind him made Jim turn his head. Spock was walking evenly towards them, his face devoid of emotion, as usual.

"What is it, Mr. Spock?" He called out.

"Captain, I may have an idea about why our scans malfunctioned," the Vulcan replied, his hands clasped behind his back.

"What do you mean, Spock?"

Spock grabbed his tricorder confidently, pressed a few buttons, and showed it to him. "If you look here, there appears to be—"

His words paused, as if suddenly muted and stolen away. The loud clattering of his device hitting the stone floor echoed across the room, a sharp punctuation to replace his forced silence. The man was gone.

"Spock?" Jim instantly leaped to his feet, almost knocking over his chair, and scanned the room. "Spock?" he called louder.

"The hell?" Bones growled, a look of utter confusion on his face, standing out of his own chair. "Where did he go? I didn't hear a transporter."

Uhura stepped cautiously towards Jim. "What just happened?" she looked around the room, her eyes searching almost frantically around the spot where Spock had just been standing. A frown was creasing her face into one of distress.

Jim paused. "I don't know," he replied wearily.

Both of the security officers chose that moment to come back, their phasers still out in front of them. They entered the room, staring curiously at everyone's confused expressions. "Captain, we did not find anyth—"

Their words were cut off, the phasers they held crashing to the ground as the two men disappeared right before the remaining crews' eyes. _Shit._

Jim's expression turned horrified. "Phasers on stun!" He rapidly unclipped his weapon, gripping it like his life depended on it. He couldn't let the rest of his crew be taken too.

Bones and Uhura quickly followed suit, and the three walked to the middle of the room, their back pressed against each other in a circle. Sweat was beading on their faces, the liquid shining in the brightly lit room.

"What do we do, Captain?" Uhura asked, her voice steady as she stood confidently next to them.

Jim opened his mouth to answer, turning to her, but she too had vanished, her weapon dropping to the ground. His eyes widened, staring at the now empty space beside him as the phaser skid away from him. "Bones—" he started.

"Yeah, I know. This is bad."

"Guess I should have stuck with my instincts huh?" Jim closed his eyes, breathing fast with the adrenaline rush. "It turns out you were right about your bad feeling back on the ship."

"There was nothing you could have done differently, Jim," Bones corrected, sighing.

The pressure of Bones' back on his own was comforting, the small act anchoring him and clearing his mind. He scrambled to grab his communicator with one hand and flipped it open. Maybe they could contact the ship. "Kirk to _Enterprise_ ," he tried, speaking rapidly.

No answer.

He dialed the device to maximum output and tried again. "Kirk to _Enterprise_ , do you read me?" he pleaded, hope draining from his body and forming a pit of despair in his stomach as static filled his ears. "Shit," Jim sighed as he shoved the device into his pocket.

"Now what? How do we know one of us won't be taken next?"

"We don't," he stressed. "But we can't stay here waiting like pigs to be slaughtered. We need some answers." His jaw clenched as he spoke slowly, looking Bones in the eye. "I think we need to pay a visit to our hosts."

"For once, I agree with you, Jim," Bones replied steadily.

They walked side by side, phasers set to stun, shoving open the door and leaving the now repugnant building cautiously, their faces set in determination as the setting sun beat down on them.

XXXXXX

It didn't take long for the Kabids to find them. Their footsteps echoed across the city's walls, and the mantises' sensitive hearing picked it up without difficulty. They were barely to the next building when the natives had them surrounded. They came in hordes, the mass of blue and purple creatures crawling at them like a plague of locusts, their feet hitting the ground sounding as if rows of timpanists were rolling to a crescendo. Jim's blood ran cold. _There's too many of them._

The sea of bodies didn't stop. They were spilling out of every building, swarming together, their segmented bodies moving gracefully along the stone paths. Chills went down Jim's spine, and he gripped his phaser tighter. He could see the Kabids' spikes gleaming in the sun, the glare hitting his eyes as he gazed at them.

He and Bones had their backs pressed against each other, aiming their weapons at the crowd. His friend's nervous breathing could barely be heard over the blood pounding in Jim's head.

"So," Jim huffed, "this was a trap."

"Apparently." Bones' scowl deepened further.

"One we fell right into."

"Yes."

They stood there, watching the natives get closer and closer, their impending demise surely around the corner. The bastards were taking their time, creeping slowly across the ground, taunting them, their low chirping increasing in volume as they got closer. There was nothing they could do; they were vastly outnumbered. The natives' natural bug-like exoskeletons clinked loudly against each other, reminding the two men of their odds of survival.

The only thing on Jim's mind was keeping his best friend alive.

"Bones?" Jim called out. He needed him to know how much he appreciated his friendship. Bones had always been there for him, always patching him up after all of the bar fights back at the Academy, always standing by his side when the weight of his father's legacy laid too heavily on his shoulders. Hell, he was always there whenever he just needed a friend. The man was too important for him to lose.

"Yeah," he paused, looking at Jim in the eye. "I know."

Jim smiled grimly and turned back to their adversaries. "What the hell do you guys want with us?" Jim yelled at them, the smile falling from his face, twisting into a deep scowl.

A dark pink native stepped out of the crowd. It had green, bulging eyes and many curved spikes protruding from its nose and forehead. It appeared to be female. Her curved claws glinted in the sunset, turning the pink scales red as blood. She extended her arms to silence the people, their cries instantly stopping, then began to speak:

"We.. want.. _you_." The malicious words formed slowly from her mouth; her lips appearing to be unfamiliar with the language.

_She speaks Standard?_ Jim glanced at Bones, surprise written on his face.

The Kabid's eyelids lowered to squint at the men, her previous smile slowly turning into a frown. She turned her head ever so slightly and said something he could not hear.

Their faces were immediately changed to looks of fear as the natives' clicking increased in power, the wave of sound assaulting their ears. It was an unending tsunami of pain. The timpanists from before had morphed into snare drummers, hitting the rim of their instruments in a round. There was no rhythm to their incessant playing.

They dropped their phasers as the sound reached an unbearable level, the weapons falling to the ground with a soft thud. They both covered their ears in an attempt to block out the sound.

"Jim!?" Bones yelled, his voice almost completely drowned out as he bent over in agony

Jim wasn't any better. His body was caving in on itself—he was losing motor control fast. He held his hands tight to his ears, tears filling the corners of his eyes and making his vision blur. He closed them as the liquid streamed down his face. It felt like someone was taking a hammer to his head.

Somehow, the clicking got even louder, filling his brain until he could think of almost nothing else. He could vaguely hear someone screaming, their cries echoing in his soul.

_Bones._

_I need to save Bones._

Jim said it in his mind like a mantra, willing himself to stay awake. He pried open his eyes to look at his friend.

His best friend is in pain. Bones is in pain. And it is all his fault.

Jim stretched his arm out, the limb suddenly heavy as lead, to put his hand on Bones' shoulder. He looked into his friend's pain-filled eyes, eyes that always saw through his own soul's surface. The first person to give a damn about Jim Kirk. He gave a silent apology.

_I'm sorry I couldn't save you._

_This is all my fault._

Bones dragged his hand on top of Jim's, gripping the younger man's hand tightly with his jaw clenched shut. He glared daggers at Jim, never breaking eye contact. A reminder, Jim realized.

_Do not take the blame._

_We do this together._

Jim's vision started to go black at the edges. He stumbled forward, his hand falling limp to his side. Bones reached out to catch him only to fall to the ground next to him. They lay side by side in the dirt, the soil tinting their clothes blue. He could feel the thundering of footsteps vibrate throughout his body.

Jim's eyes fluttered open, squinting against the light, blinking at the unending waves of colors, the vibrant purples and blues blurring together the longer he was on the ground. His chest was heaving as he fought to take a deep breath.

Pain was seared into his memory. The sound from before never abating but becoming non-existent in his mind. He felt something warm drip from his ears, soaking into the dirt, changing its blue hue to a dark shade of purple.

He felt himself drift into unconsciousness, surrendering his mind to the blackness as the merging colors disappeared. His eyes shut and the sound faded; the silence a blanket over his pain-filled mind.

_I'm sorry, Bones. I couldn't keep my promise._

* * *

"Ti'Bala."

The lavender Kabid turned around swiftly, his eyes scanning for the one who called his name. "Ah, Kaya," he remarked in his native tongue. "I assume you completed your mission as flawlessly as always?"

"Of course, my love," Ti'Kaya replied, stepping closer to him, her scales shining beautifully in the setting sun. "The humans are now in our possession."

"And what of the rest of their crew?"

"They have been...taken care of," she replied, her lips curving into a cunning smile.

"Do I want to know?" he chuckled.

"They will have died a most gruesome death at this point."

Ti'Bala smirked, his wife always got the job done. He offered her his hand, nodding his head to acknowledge her a mission well done, and beckoned her to walk with him. "Care to join me, Kaya?"

"That depends on where we are going," she chuckled, grabbing his hand gracefully. Her green eyes stared into his, sparkling with humor.

The familiar color sent butterflies through his stomach, much like the day he first met her. He loved it when she looked at him like that.

"You'll see, my dear," Ti'Bala chuckled.

They walked hand-in-hand down the long corridor, their light steps sending the smallest of noises echoing across. The walls were filled with glass windows and decorated to the brim with plants, which brightened up the otherwise plain room. The perfectly symmetrical entryway to the palace was a masterpiece, crafted by Ti'Bala's great grandfather. It was a spectacle to any off-worlder who saw it.

The entire city was geometrically perfect, just how he liked it. The streets were clean, the buildings untarnished, it was whole and pure. His subjects never committed any crimes, everything was as it should be; perfect, peaceful, and happy.

"I noticed that O'Chibi failed his task earlier today," sniffed Ti'Kaya, her eyelids lowering in a glare ahead of her.

"Indeed he did," he agreed distastefully. "But he knew the repercussions of failure."

"That _maggot_ was a disgrace to our family."

Ti'Bala didn't say anything, and they continued their stroll through the palace. His mind was more concerned with where their destination was, rather than the failure of his child. "At least he won't bother us anymore. That thorn in my side had been useless for far too long, a waste of space since birth," he growled. "He's nothing like his siblings, the only Warrior Class in the bunch."

"I hope the Nyokaeim got a nice meal out of him, she was getting restless. Better O'Chibi than someone important to our society."

"Yes, it would be most disappointing if she had gotten into the palace."

"Speaking of the palace, Bala, where are we going?" she asked curiously, her words flowing naturally and without difficulty, as she spoke her most fluent language—she could never fully catch on to the intricacies of Federation Standard.

He turned to her lovingly, his mouth twisting smugly with pride. "I was thinking we could go to the gladiator ring. I heard a warrior wants to divorce her mate."

"Ooh!" she exclaimed brightly, gasping. "You know I love those. I hope more blood will be spilled this time! During the last divorce, a peasant ended it at the start and just bit off her mate's head. It was a huge letdown."

"Well, I heard this one wants him to suffer slowly and painfully. It should be an entertaining show tonight since they are both warriors."

"Another body to sacrifice to the Serpent of Death," she added.

Ti'Bala nodded his head slowly in agreement. "Another day without an attack on our walls."

They turned left around the corner, passing by some of their Royal Class subjects, most of which were doing something of importance. He could see a few council members discussing trade, a couple of men painting a wonderful mural on the wall, and even one or two diplomats from nearby planets. Each of them bowed in respect to him as he went by, the grin on his face growing wider at the sight of the obedient citizens.

Just before stepping out into the courtyard, Ti'Bala saw the back of a small, dark blue person sprinting down the hall, the man's tail twitching as it slid across the floor. "Kal'Brula!" he yelled. "Why are you running down the halls?"

The small man stopped, eyes wide and a purple hue creeping along his face. "S-Sorry sir, I was delivering a message to the Lady Ti'Kaya and did not see you."

"A message, Brula?" she asked gruffly, stepping out to him.

"Oh, y-yes, my lady," he opened the side of his bag clumsily, looking frantically through his papers. He grabbed one, voicing a strange sound of success, and gently gave it to Kaya.

"Dismissed," she commanded, eyes scanning the top of the letter before opening it.

"What does it say, my love?"

She smiled cruelly and looked up to him. "It is the confirmation letter of the death of Captain Kirk's crew."


	3. The Rift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: They were taking their time, creeping slowly across the ground, taunting them, their low chirping increasing in volume as they got closer. There was nothing they could do. They were vastly outnumbered. The natives' natural body armor clinked loudly against each other, reminding the two men of the odds of survival.
> 
> Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Angst, Hurt!Jim, Whump, BAMF!Bones
> 
> Spoilers: General movie spoilers, some TOS references
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> .
> 
> A/N: Hello! Sorry for the long wait with this chapter! *laughs nervously* I started school two weeks ago and now all my free time is gone. :p I hope to be able to post a chapter every two/three weeks, but don't quote me on that xD
> 
> If anyone was confused about a rating change, yes, I moved the rating down to a T. I decided that M was too strong.
> 
> I would like to thank all my betas for their awesome job helping me, and I would also like to thank everyone who read, commented, subscribed, and left kudos on my story! You guys rock!

"Sir, the Captain won't respond to my hails."

The silence that accompanied the statement was almost suffocating.

Sulu sat confidently in the Captain's chair, his eyes set in a determined gaze as he controlled the Conn. The away team had been gone for over an hour and a half, only checking in once. Last they heard, the group had begun the walk to the city. The Captain's tardiness didn't sit right with him; Kirk was usually very punctual about check-ins. "Chekov," —he turned to the navigator— "can you check for any human life signs on the planet?"

"Aye, sir," the man replied, hastily stepping over to Spock's station. He pressed a few buttons on the display rapidly, pulling up the ship's scan of the surface and scanning the information. He hesitated, looking weary before returning Sulu's gaze. "The sensors can not detect any human nor Vulcan life on the planet, sir."

Sulu's brow furrowed. That couldn't be right. "Is there anything interfering with the connection?"

"From what I can tell…no," the Russian started, "but perhaps Mr. Scott could assist in the case that there is?" His friend seemed shocked, perhaps he was worried about the landing party?

He stood up smoothly out of the chair, nodding to Chekov. "Have Mr. Scott and Commander Giotto meet us in the Captain's ready room in ten minutes."

He pressed a button on the armrest, broadcasting his voice to the entire ship. "This is Acting Captain Sulu. As of now, the landing party we sent down earlier today is considered missing in action," he paused, feeling the eyes of the entire ship on him. "And as you know, Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy were all on that team. While we don't know if they are alive, we are going to do our very best to bring them and the rest of the crew back. Sulu out."

The bridge officers continued to look at him as if he'd grown another head. The _Enterprise_ had never had three of their commanding officers go missing before. Sure, maybe one or two of them, but they were always okay in the end (even if they had to visit Medbay). His fellow crewmates' reactions varied, some seemed fearful, worried—with Kirk's record he could hardly blame them—but most seemed confident. Whether or not they were confident that they would save them, he didn't know. Their eyes stared him down as if to say they were ready. They were the _Enterprise_ goddammit; no one messed with their crew and got away with it.

"We _will_ get them back, no matter what," he stressed, staring back at their unbending gazes with resolute confidence before stepping into the turbolift, Chekov right behind him as the doors hissed shut.

The 'lift hummed mechanically as they went down. Chekov stood stiffly beside him, his face blank, but he wouldn't stop moving his hands. The kid looked downright nervous, as if he did something wrong and was being sent away for punishment.

Maybe he _was_ worried about the away team.

Sulu stopped the Turbolift with the press of a button and glanced over to the Russian, his eyebrow raised. "What's eating at you, Pavel?" he queried, worried about his friend.

The kid hesitated, likely considering the question. "Do you _actually_ think our friends are alive, Hikaru?" It sounded more like a squeak. He seemed to deflate even more after he got the words out, staring at the floor with unspoken misery.

The moment of silence was interrupted by the calm voice of the computer, reminding them to choose a destination.

Sulu rested his hand on Chekov's shoulder, looking at him with disbelief. "We cannot let ourselves believe that they are dead unless we have proof," he replied grimly. "And I sure as hell am not going to leave them behind."

"Are you going to contact Starfleet?"

He hesitated. "No. I'm not."

"You're not?" He jerked his head up in surprise, his eyes wide.

"Think about it, what happens if the 'fleet tells us to leave without them, to go back to headquarters and get replacements for our friends?" he asked. "Then we would be going against our superiors to go and get them back."

"So we are going to get them _without_ Starfleet's consent?" he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Starfleet can be informed after Kirk returns to the ship."

Chekov nodded absently. "Do you think the Captain is okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine," he chuckled. "He's got Spock, Uhura, _and_ McCoy with him."

His friend's face broke out in a small smile, as Sulu put in their destination for the Turbolift. "You're right, the doctor would never let anything happen to Kirk if he could help it."

Sulu gave a small smile in response, trying to alleviate the kid's worry. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were doing just fine. Probably already finished negotiations." _God, I hope I didn't just lie to him._

He put his arm around Chekov's shoulders, pressing the button to resume the turbolift's descent into the rest of the ship, wishing that his words were true.

You better be okay Jim.

* * *

Silence

That was all McCoy knew as he tried to regain consciousness.

It was like he was underwater. His ears were filled to the brim, distorting the sounds of the world around him. He thought he could feel a tingling sensation shooting through his ear-drums, a weird tickling sensation that made his skin crawl.

Did he even have a body? He couldn't feel anything but his own mind, wandering aimlessly through the sea of darkness. The waves were crashing over him, dragging him deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless abyss.

He tried to look around, his soul aching to be at rest as the water sapped at his reserves, the liquid casting an eerie shadow across his mind. McCoy wouldn't normally have called himself claustrophobic, but damn him if he wasn't feeling it now.

_Is there supposed to be sound?_ No part of him could remember. It felt so _wrong_ , the way he moved purposelessly with the water wasn't right. _There is more than_ just _this, right?_

Somehow, he knew silence was a bad thing. The unending hum of life seemed so far away, if it even existed anymore. Maybe he'd always been like that, unmoving and flowing with the tide.

XXXXXX

He opened his eyes to darkness again. This time the waves seemed slower, the incessant crashing lessening their hold on him. He could vaguely feel a presence on his mind, but it was still out of reach. He couldn't help but feel like he had forgotten something, or someone important. Something more important to him than the oppressive silence. It was tugging on his memory, so close yet so far.

A feeling of unease bubbled up through his chest. It felt almost suffocating in the midst of the silence as he frantically tried to break the surface of the water.

XXXXXX

His entire body felt like it was in limbo, completely submerged in an endless suspended state; halfway into the light, halfway into the darkness, both sides fighting to take over. He so desperately wanted to wake up, but the black had its hold on him. The abyss around him was still and lifeless.

XXXXXX

He was flung out of his unending purgatory by a sharp tugging on his arm—he didn't even know he _had_ an arm. He panicked, thinking something was trying to drag him deeper into the depths of the water. _The darkness must be reaching for you,_ he realized suddenly. He cried out and tried to latch on to something, anything that could stop his quick descent into the endless abyss. _No, no, no, no, don't take me!_

"…ones..."

A sound. It was a familiar sound, causing his panic to ebb slightly, it was so faint, he thought he might have imagined it. His chest heaved as he fought to breathe through the smog around him. It weighed down his body, preventing him from taking a breath.

The sound pulled hard on a part of his memory. A person, no, his _brother_. Yeah, his brother was calling to him. The unease from before was quickly diminishing under the watch of the presence.

Another tug, harder this time. No, not a tug. Someone was shaking him.

"Bones!"

The voice dragged McCoy rapidly from the haze of unconsciousness and into the light. He awoke with a jolt and gasped as his eyes flew open. Someone was kneeling over him. "Jim?" He huffed through heavy breaths, breathing like a fish out of water.

A relieved sigh, "Thank God you're awake." He hung his head as McCoy looked up to him. His friend's posture relaxed, and his eyes closed for a moment.

McCoy wearily sat up, scanning the room they were in, as Jim sat cross-legged next to him. From what he could tell, they were in a cell of some kind. The stone floor was riddled with puddles, and he could hear a soft dripping coming from the ceiling—although he couldn't see it. It was too dark to make out anything but vague shapes.

So they were kidnapped—no surprise there. He wondered when being a prisoner had stopped surprising him. It was probably when he met Jim.

The room itself was small. From what he could see, over half of the space was dedicated to the cell they were currently in. If he squinted, he could make out the shape of a door on the other side of the bars.

"So…we were kidnapped," McCoy said matter-of-factly.

"It would seem so."

"What did you do _this_ time?"

" _I_ didn't do anything! Or…at least I don't think so," Jim objected, his resolve fading. "I actually can't remember how we got here." He sounded incredulous.

Now that he mentioned it, McCoy didn't know how they got there either. That was _definitely_ not a good sign. He shivered, rubbing his hands along the length of his arms in an attempt to warm up. The ground was cold, the moisture soaking into his pants and chilling him to the bone. "Well, I can't remember either," he added, unease growing in his gut.

He stood up, staggering before regaining his balance. From what he could tell, the cell was devoid of any furniture. There wasn't even a mattress on the ground. It was completely empty minus themselves. The bars were too thick to get their arms through, but they could maybe fit their hands through if needed.

"Have our supposed kidnappers given us any food or water?"

"None that I have found," Jim replied, his boot scraping against the ground as he extended his leg. "I don't think we have been here for more than a few hours."

"What makes you say that?" he inquired skeptically.

"If you look behind you, you will notice a small window."

McCoy turned around, straining his eyes to look for the supposed aperture. The opening could _barely_ be considered a window. It was more like a small hole in the wall with thin bars across it, it's only use was probably to provide ventilation.

"It is only night time, so I assume that it hasn't been more than a few hours. I'm not hungry yet, I don't know about you, but it doesn't feel like we have been here for a couple of days," Jim continued.

It was then when McCoy realized that he _wasn't_ hungry, maybe a little thirsty, but that was to be expected. "No, you're right. It doesn't feel like we've been here for days."A sharp twinge of pain shot through his eardrums without warning. He rubbed the outside of his lobes with his fingers, cursing up a storm. "Goddammit."

"Wait, your ears hurt too?"

McCoy turned around slowly, facing Jim with a scowl he couldn't see. "You mean to tell me," he paused, "that your ears hurt and you didn't say anything?"

"Well, I didn't think it was important."

"Dammit, Jim! Of course it's important!" he admonished, gesturing to Jim's head, "Why wouldn't it be important if you were in pain?"

"Well it's probably my fault we are here in the first place, I didn't want to complain about something so trivial."

McCoy sighed, bringing his hand down with a slap. _The kid's too selfless for his own good sometimes._ "I won't be able to look for damage until the sun rises, so until then just be careful. We should probably speak quieter, as to not aggravate our ears."

"Got it," he spoke marginally quieter than before, his voice more like a whisper.

"Besides, there is probably a _reason_ both of our ears hurt. I don't want to deal with _more_ tissue damage than I will probably have to."

Jim seemed to pause at that. He could hear him shuffle around, most likely shifting from his position on the ground. "Do you think that was how they captured us? A loud noise, I mean."

McCoy stopped, considering the possibility. That would make sense. It would have taken a very loud sound at a high frequency to do it though. Not to mention the fact that they didn't remember who kidnapped them or where the hell they were. He didn't even remember what _planet_ they were on.

A distant memory of agonizing pain appeared in his mind, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. He hesitated, speaking slowly, "If you mean that our captors blasted our ears with a high frequency, then yes, that is exactly what I think."

Jim stayed silent for a second, McCoy assumed that he was contemplating their situation. "I can't even remember _where_ we are," he added softly, raising his hand in a frustrated manner. "Last I remember we were getting ready for our next mission."

"Our memory will likely come back soon, but I think it's safe to say our mission didn't end well." Jim didn't say anything to that, just continued sitting on the floor—probably getting soaked in that disgusting liquid. "Why are you sitting there? I _don't_ want to deal with hypothermia on top of this."

Jim sighed exasperatedly, but McCoy knew he was amused. "Fine, I'll stand up." He heard the distinct sound of his boots hitting the floor and an amused chuckle. "There, you happy now?"

"Just peachy," he muttered as he rolled his eyes.

He wandered blindly to one of the walls and leaned against it in a spot that wasn't wet to the touch, staring at the shadowy blob that was Jim (the man had wandered to his own wall not too far away). They had somehow gotten captured _again_ and somehow put in a prison cell _again_. Leave it to the _Enterprise_ crew to make things complicated; they never did things halfway. He just hoped to God Jim wouldn't be killed this time.

Hell, he couldn't imagine what _life_ would be like without James T. Kirk by his side. He didn't know if he would even stay in Starfleet if the kid wasn't there with him. He definitely wouldn't have lasted the first week at the academy, much less gone into _space_ if his newfound best friend wasn't there with him. And now, he was the only reason McCoy was _still_ in space.

A soft puff of air brushed past his face and Jim's body settled on the wall right next to him, the man scooting closer to him. In the darkness of the room, he couldn't tell how Jim was feeling. "Got cold, huh?" he smiled to himself.

"Shut up."

* * *

A fragrant breeze gently grazed his skin, the air encompassing him like it wanted to consume him, moving around as if in a genial state. It smelled of maple trees, and he thought he could pick out the smell of a fresh rain shower, the dew collecting along the forest's floor. A couple of birds chirped in the distance, their soft trill soothing his unease. It reminded him of his mother…

Spock's eyes flew open and he sat up cautiously. His fingertips were grasping the pink grass below him as he scanned his surroundings. He was perplexed. What he saw didn't look at _all_ like Regienal III. There were mountains, waterfalls and valleys, rivers and streams—but what was the most curious was the wide trails dotting the landscape. It seemed as though something, or someone, had trodden over the plants for many years.

Very interesting.

A strange bird glided in from above him and landed on a rock off to his right. It was a deep cyan blue and appeared to have claws like that of a hawk on Earth. Its cooing sounded more like the bird his mother had once had as a pet when she was a child, which he believed she had called a 'dove'.

The dove, or whatever the bird was called, fluttered around before landing somewhere behind him, whistling as it hit the ground. He turned around to see where it had gone, twisting his torso instead of getting up but paused when he saw a flash of red instead of pink through the groundcover.

Spock rose to his feet wearily, grasping at his belt for his phaser before realizing it wasn't there, along with his tricorder and communicator. _How inconvenient._ He stepped towards the bushes, brushing aside stray branches and twigs, and peered into the small clearing ahead of him.

About three-fourths the way into the field, Spock could see a person lying prone in the grass; the plants flattened underneath the weight. Their redshirt was distracting, the bright color catching his attention, it was somehow familiar.

Spock took a weary step out, eyeing his surroundings in case of a trap—stopping when he heard a buzzing noise. He froze, searching for the origin of the sound, before sighing—it was only a bumblebee (or whatever the Regienal III equivalent was).

He carefully placed another foot out in front of him, his boot sinking a centimeter into the blue, damp mud; a passing ant crawling over the footwear. Paranoia was creeping through his mind, twisting every shadow, every broken twig, and every passing thought. He shook his head, _no, there is nothing here to be paranoid of._

Spock walked the remaining paces towards the body on the ground, kneeling slowly into the grass before turning the person onto their back, blinking when he recognized the face—it was Lieutenant Sturgeon, one of the security officers that had accompanied the away team to the planet. Spock placed two fingers under the man's chin, searching for a pulse. Luckily, there was one, and it was steady, if a little fast for an unconscious human; otherwise he appeared unharmed.

_So, I'm not the only one here._

That meant that they still needed to find Nyota, Kirk, McCoy, and Smith.

Spock glanced around the rest of the clearing for signs of anyone else nearby. "Hello?" he called out cautiously, perhaps foolishly hoping that someone else would show up around the corner.

"..ock?" a soft voice replied back, it was a masculine voice, but it didn't sound like the commanding tone of the Captain, nor the irate scowling of the doctor. They must have been barely in earshot, a human would not have heard the response.

"Is that you Smith?" he yelled back, in the hopes of the man finding his way to him. That left only Kirk, McCoy…and Nyota left. He hoped they were fortunate enough to be unharmed in the aftermath of what happened.

He wished _he_ knew what happened; his memory was drawing a blank for everything that occurred after they arrived at the "guest space" as the Kabids called it.

The Lieutenant came rounding a corner of trees, out of breath as if he had been running for a while. "Sir! I'm glad I found you, I was beginning to think I was out here by myself," he huffed cheerfully.

"I had just found Sturgeon when I called out to you. Have you seen the rest of the crew?" he asked the man steadily, even though his heart was racing.

"I have not, sir, only you and Tim."

Spock hesitated, "We need to find them as soon as possible. The likelihood of us running into them decreases with every passing hour."

"Aye, sir, but what do we do about Sturgeon?" he gestured to the unconscious officer, "We can't leave him here."

"I wasn't suggesting we do." he paused, calculating how much weight it would be to carry the man. "I will carry him," he answered confidently. Spock stepped over to Sturgeon, grabbed him, and effortlessly put him in a fireman's carry.

"Are you sure it won't be too heavy for you?"

"My strength will suffice for the time being." he replied evenly, "Let's go."


	4. Of Mantises and Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have finally finished this chapter! I know, I know, it took a while, but it is done now! I am super excited for this one.
> 
> Again, because of school, updates are going to be very slow, but I hope you guys will wait for the awesome story that has been developing.
> 
> ALSO-HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT  
> All previous chapters have been updated with more awesome grammar, flow and etc.! If interested in seeing the changes, go ahead and reread them! If you do not want to, that's fine as well!

McCoy woke up to the abrupt sounds of flesh hitting metal, the loud clanging reverberating in his ears. He opened his eyes slowly, his frown becoming more distinct as he realized where the incessant noise was coming from, and sat up with a deep sigh. "What are you doing, Jim?"

The man in question was reaching for the window, the opening letting in small streams of sunlight through its iron bars, and was hitting the metal with his fists. "Oh!" he yelped sheepishly. "Sorry, Bones, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Why are you hitting the bars in the first place?" he inquired, his voice growling. "It's not like we can fit through it."

"I _was_ trying to loosen these bars to use as a weapon, but they're pretty tight in there."

McCoy raised his eyebrows. "They're probably screwed to the wall," he remarked as if it were obvious.

"Yeah, I know that _now,_ but I thought it was a good idea to try," he sighed, turning back to the bars to continue studying them.

It _was_ a good idea, but McCoy didn't know what good a foot-and-a-half long bar was going to do against their captors.

McCoy looked around the room, eyes narrowing further the longer he stared. Now that the sun had come up, the cell somehow looked even worse. In the light, he could see that the walls were covered in a sickly looking moss, and from where he was in the cell, it looked as if it spread throughout the entire room, the green tufts shining with a slight dew that had collected along them, like they had been lightly misted earlier in the day.

The strange puddles scattered along the ground were certainly not water—they were laced with too much yellow for that to be the case—and the liquid added to the horrid smell permeating the room. McCoy cringed slightly at the sight—he had sat in one of those puddles.

The space was very unsanitary—that much was for certain. He couldn't even imagine the number of pathogens that were probably in the room. It looked like something (or someone) had been left to rot and decay until there was nothing left. It was in worse condition than any place he had ever seen before.

McCoy averted his gaze and turned to the ceiling, studying the cracked, dripping stones above him as if their escape plan would just fall into his hands. _Spock better hurry up_. He didn't know how long he would last in a cramped cell with an antsy Jim Kirk.

God, was Spock with them when they were captured? Dammit. That would complicate everything. If the hobgoblin had made it out safely, the rescue team would have already been on their way.

_If not, well, me and Jim will have to find a way out ourselves_.

A grim thought entered his mind. What if they _didn't_ make it? What if both he and Jim died there in that godforsaken place? McCoy didn't know if he could stand the thought of Jim dying there, with or without him by his side.

And what would their deaths do to Joanna? Hell, it would shatter her heart. His little girl loved them both so much, she even called Jim 'Uncle Jim' whenever they came to visit. He was the one who helped McCoy obtain visiting rights after the whole Narada fiasco. Jim had spoken to him during one of their many drinking nights alone, declaring with complete determination, "Your daughter is important to you, so she is in turn very important to me. You are getting visiting rights back if I have anything to say about it."

McCoy had looked at him like he was crazy. He had interjected, practically sputtering with disbelief, reminding him that the court had already ruled in his wife's favor.

Jim's only reply before he had walked out the door was, "I'll handle it."

And since then, they both had gone to visit multiple times before they left into the black again. Jim normally would have tagged along anyways, even if McCoy wasn't about to visit his only child. Mostly because he didn't have anywhere else to go. Sure, Starfleet gave him his own apartment after he was promoted to Captain, but that never felt like home to him.

"Do you know Shakespeare?" Jim blurted out from his spot by the window, turning McCoy's attention back to him. "Y'know, the Earth poet?"

McCoy raised his left eyebrow in profound confusion. "Yes, I have heard of him," he replied, crossing his arms across his chest, and peered over at him.

"He once said that your eyes are the windows to the soul," Jim paused. "and that they show who you really are." The younger man looked at him. He had an indiscernible look on his face—one that McCoy had never seen—before turning his gaze to the floor in silence.

McCoy stared hard at Jim. "I believe it."

Jim lifted his head back up to look at him, his sharp eyes studying his own. He looked surprised.

"Why does this certain quote come to mind now?"

Jim stared back down at the floor. "Oh, it's nothing. Just something that I remembered," he said, quieter than before. "I thought it could help pass the time faster if we talked about something."

_I'm not falling for that_. McCoy had never seen a more obvious lie in his life. "It seemed more than just 'something that you remembered', Jim."

"Just drop it, Bones." The younger man crossed his arms across his chest.

He did not comment right away, instead, he thought back on Jim's reply; the kid had said those exact words right before he had told McCoy about Tarsus IV for the first time. That was _not_ a good day. "Is this…?" He started, trailing off.

"Reminding me of Tarsus?" He replied. "I'm not freaking out yet, if that's what you're implying. This isn't even close to that."

_That doesn't mean you aren't thinking about it, Jim._

McCoy stayed quiet. He knew not to press Jim when he got like this. It would only bring up bad memories, and that was something they definitely didn't need at the moment. Not that they could ignore it though. He sighed defeatedly.

He wished he could see what was going on in Jim's head.

The sharp jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door grabbed their attention. They glanced at each other quickly before standing and moving towards the entrance on stiff legs. McCoy took a step closer to the middle of the room, slightly ahead of Jim. _If they want him, they'll have to go through me._

The door creaked open, scraping against the hinges as if it hadn't been opened in years, revealing a lavender mantis-looking person. _A Kabid,_ he realized. McCoy and Jim looked at each other, their eyes widening as the events that led to their capture came rushing to their minds. _Shit!_

The Kabid was followed by two others that were holding what appeared to be spears of some sort. The weapons were long—almost as if only for show.

The purple one was taller, skinnier, and more intimidating than the others. He had an intense presence—one that made McCoy rethink the possibility of escape—and the mantis' gait was that of a powerful leader. Two long spikes on his head protruded from the scales just above his eyes.

Burly guards stood at the leader's side, both standing shorter than the purple one, but they seemed more muscular. McCoy could almost call them 'bodyguards'.

"Take him." The mantis gestured at Jim, waving like he was an annoying nuisance. The other two guards instantly strode into the cell and reached out to grab Jim's arms, ignoring McCoy's attempts at getting in their way.

"What do you want with us, you bastards? Starfleet won't be too happy that you kidnapped their flag ship's Captain and CMO." Jim tried to sound intimidating as he flailed his arms and kicked out his legs, attempting to break free of the guards' grasp.

"I had no idea you were so important, Captain Kirk," the mantis said, his tone flat, smirking as if pleased with himself.

_The Kabids know exactly who we are?_ Dammit. The entire mission was a setup—probably from the start. How far had they infiltrated into the 'Fleet?

McCoy made a swift decision. Leonard Horatio McCoy was not going to go down without a fight. Reaching out with his hands, he lunged roughly on top of the closest mantis guard, wrapping his arms around its neck and squeezing as hard as he could. A grunt escaped his clenched jaw as the guard tried to pry him off, the mantis' fists connecting with his limbs. Jim stared at McCoy, his mouth aghast and open wide—yet not without a hint of amazement.

Breaking McCoy's center of balance, the Kabid threw him with a lunge at the wall, the back of his head slamming into it with a crack. His body crumpled in on itself and went limp—all of his adrenaline ebbing as he lay gasping like a fish.

Searing pain coursed through him, his vision blinded by white—his lungs inhaling shakily and exhaling with uneven breaths.

McCoy's eyelids fluttered, his mind dazed and filled to the brim with agony. It felt like a Klingon was slamming a hammer into his head, the pounding making him struggle to stay conscious. The room spun as he watched Jim kick both of the guards off of him and run to his side, the man grabbing McCoy's hand in his own and squeezing hard. Jim's eyes never left McCoy's. The sharp blue irises searched endlessly in his own hazel pools, seemingly looking for the answers to life itself.

Everything slowed down, it was as if the world was moving in slow-motion. He could see Jim blink slowly, the man turning around to view his assailants as they tried to grab his arms. McCoy's hand was ripped from Jim's grasp. He tried to reach weakly, searching the air for the familiar touch as the smell of Jim's cologne remained near.

The mantises were dragging Jim away from him by the arms, punching him in the gut when he tried to wrench himself out of their strong grip. The man's face turned frantic as he got further and further away from him. Jim's eyes were wide, his stare fixated on McCoy.

That was when he realized something—something that hadn't happened in a long time.

Jim was scared.

Jim was scared and there was nothing he could do about it.

McCoy knew Jim was saying something important, his friend's lips never stopped moving, but he couldn't hear it. His ears were ringing and the continuing vertigo somehow spun the room faster. It felt like he was spiraling out of control, his body not listening to his brain's commands to stand up. He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. The logical part of his mind told him there was nothing he could do, but he didn't want to go, Goddammit. Jim needed him.

McCoy watched, helpless to stop the Kabids from taking Jim away from him. The man was yelling his name, trying to scrape his nails on the ground in an effort to escape the grasp of his captors. McCoy could imagine the fear lacing the voice as it diminished further down the hall.

He had only one thought in his mind as his best friend was dragged away.

_Failure._

His eyes drifted shut. The last image on his mind one of Jim reaching out to him before the darkness grabbed hold of him yet again, his mind shutting off as it dragged him down. Fear grasped his heart, weighing it down with guilt and despair.

XXXXXX

The return to consciousness was easier this time, albeit more painful. McCoy awoke to a splitting headache and sore muscles. He tried to sit up, straining his arms against the ground, but fell with a grunt as the pain in his head grew at the motion.

"I guess," McCoy coughed, "I'm staying on the ground." His voice scraped against his dry throat, and he immediately regretted talking. Feeling his head ache, he touched the back of it with his hand. There wasn't any blood—at least, not as far as he could tell—but there was a large swelling that throbbed with pain when he touched it.

One by one, he flexed each muscle group to determine if he was injured anywhere else. Grimacing, he stopped moving as his right leg twinged with pain. It wasn't broken, he noted, as he gently prodded the injured limb; it could have been muscle strain. He gingerly brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his temples. The room swam as he looked around the prison cell, he probably had a concussion as well.

McCoy tried to sit up again. The unforgiving chill of the floor made him shiver, and a feeling of nausea gripped his stomach. He brought his hands to the ground and pushed his body upright. His breaths came out in short huffs as he leaned his back against the wall, beads of sweat beginning to form on his face.

McCoy pried open his eyes to look at the cell. The room was still as disgusting as he remembered, but he felt like something was missing. He paused, his stomach twisting in fear as he remembered.

Jim was gone.

The events from earlier came rushing back to McCoy. Jim was dragged away by those bastards, and the kid was _terrified_. He could still remember the absolutely horrified look Jim had given him, the way he had scraped his fingers raw against the ground, and how all of Jim's carefully created mental shields came crashing down in one giant fell. McCoy's breath caught in his throat. How long had it been? How long had he been asleep? He started to panic as fear for Jim's life rushed through him.

_Jim is gone._

Suddenly, he felt very hot. His chest began to ache as if he had heartburn and his lungs began to struggle—his stomach churning as a poorly timed panic attack gripped his body. He turned to his side just in time as his last meal came back up, quickly turning into an unforgiving coughing fit that left his chest heaving and his movements unsteady.

"Dammit, Jim," McCoy growled as he wiped the bile from his face with the back of his shaking hand, the sharp smell almost making him gag. "You better be alive."

XXXXXX

Faint echoing voices registered in his ears. McCoy opened his eyes slowly and realized that his headache was almost non-existent. It was most likely only a minor concussion then. His mouth opened in a yawn as he stretched his still-sore muscles. He must have nodded off at some point after he was sick.

The voices were becoming louder; McCoy assumed that whoever was speaking was coming closer to the cell. He snapped to attention at the sound of keys clinking against each other and stood up unsteadily, keeping one hand on the wall behind him. The Kabid that walked through the door was the same one from before, and he seemed pleased with himself, if his expression was anything to go off, as he went close to the bars.

"Are you enjoying your stay here, Dr. McCoy?" The mantis smiled at him, his lips (if that was what you could call them) twisted strangely.

McCoy rushed to the bars and all but slammed his fists into them—almost stumbling to the ground in the process. "What did you do to Jim?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

The Kabid laughed at him before replying. "Oh, you mean Kirk?" He paused, smirking down at McCoy's obvious fury. "He's not dead, if that's what you're wondering."

McCoy seethed, grinding his teeth. _Just because Jim isn't dead, it doesn't mean he isn't injured._ For all he knew, Jim could have been bleeding to death right at that moment.

"What do you want with us, you bastard?" McCoy practically spat at his face.

His purple chest heaved as he chirped a laugh. "Now, now, doctor. Who's the one that's currently holding your friend hostage? We don't want an accident to happen, now do we?"

McCoy's glare intensified, but he stayed quiet.

"That's better. Now if you will cooperate, I'll consider telling you why you are here." When he heard no response from McCoy, he spoke again. "If you decline my offer, I will have no choice but to terminate your captain's life."

"No!" McCoy blurted out, breathing in a sharp breath, alarmed yet vehement. "I'll cooperate."

His captor nodded once then turned around and stepped into the hall. McCoy could hear sharp clicking noises and then the sound of quick footsteps. The Kabid came back, this time with two guards. McCoy couldn't tell if they were the same guards from before or not, their burly bodies seemed to be built almost exactly the same.

"You will be escorted to a different room for our conversation." The Kabid had said it like he wasn't talking to a prisoner, almost as if he was inviting him to a casual dinner party. McCoy could only stare pointedly at the weapons that the guards were holding. His captor caught on and clarified.

"If you rebel, we will be forced to use our weapons to detain you." As he spoke, one of his guards opened the door to the cell. The rusty door frames shook, sawdust flying from the edges, as they were forced open.

McCoy hesitated before stepping out. "I guess I have no choice then," he fumed.

"Indeed." The mantis practically beamed.

XXXXXX

McCoy was led down a narrow hallway full of doors similar to the one his cell was in. He almost cringed at the thought of other prisoners being held there, and he hoped to God that the rest of the landing party weren't in the same boat.

The corridor could only hold three people walking side by side. The guards were on his left and right, and the 'leader' was in front of them. At least, McCoy assumed that the tall mantis was their leader, since he seemed to be the one calling all the shots.

"My name is Ti'Bala. I am the ruler of the Kabids," the purple mantis called out from in front of them. "You might not believe it, but we are very peaceful creatures. We only strive to learn, to seek out new knowledge. We are curious by nature." He stopped as they reached their destination.

_Peaceful my ass_ , McCoy thought ruefully. _He had said it like they hadn't kidnapped and or injured multiple innocent Starfleet officers….._

The door was mechanical, and the technology embedded in it hummed in a way unnatural to him. Ti'Bala held a small card-like device up to the entry, and it slid open with a hiss. McCoy hesitated before stepping in, but was shoved roughly through by the guard on his right. He staggered a bit before regaining his balance.

His eyes flew around the new environment, taking it in. There was a large bean-shaped table in the center of the room, and the many strangely curved and cushioned chairs surrounding it were placed symmetrical to each other. McCoy assumed it was to accommodate for the many spikes that the Kabids had protruding from various spots on their body. There was a large tinted window that looked surprisingly technologically advanced on the far wall. He could see many smaller tables on the right side, full of beakers of various sizes and other equipment he didn't recognize.

Before he could say anything, the tinted window came to life; it was no longer blocking out the room that was on the other side. McCoy's eyes widened when he saw what was behind the glass.

Jim was in there. The younger man was bound to an uncomfortable-looking chair, his hands tied together behind his back and his ankles in a similar state. His chest looked to be restrained just as tightly to the metal back of it. Jim was also blindfolded and gagged; McCoy could barely see his chest move with his breaths. He had no idea if Jim was even conscious.

McCoy jerked, lunging towards the window, his guards grabbing him before he went anywhere. He wrenched his arms out of the Kabids' grip and put his hands on the cool glass, trying to reach out to Jim. The mantises made a move to drag him away, but were stopped by Ti'Bala's raised hand.

"Wait," Ti'Bala commanded, not giving them a second glance.

McCoy stared with pain-filled eyes at his best friend. This close, he could see the sweat dripping from Jim's face, the stress lines marking his forehead, and the bruises covering his uncovered neck. Not to mention the line of crimson that streamed down from his hairline. "Why did you hurt him?" His gaze never moved from Jim's almost motionless body.

"He resisted my guards and tried to escape. We had no choice."

"This seems a bit excessive."

"You forget, you are both prisoners. Prisoners don't deserve kindness," he said matter-of-factly.

"We haven't done anything to deserve getting kidnapped for!" McCoy exclaimed.

Ti'Bala paused. "You're right," he said, humor dripping smugly from his words.

"Then why are we he-"

"We hunger for knowledge, Dr. McCoy," Ti'Bala interrupted. The mantis clasped his claws together with a small clap—the scythes scraping together like knives.

"What does that have to do with us?"

"Everything, doctor."

Ti'Bala strode calmly up to the glass, opening his mouth to speak in his native language. The clicking was very soft but commanding. McCoy peered over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of a small, dark blue tail sliding out the door. He didn't even notice that they were in the room.

"Do you want to know what my people's greatest flaw is?" Ti'Bala squinted at him.

McCoy heard the muffled hiss of a door and his eyes caught the Kabid from before sliding through an opening in Jim's room. "What is he doing?" he murmured.

The mantis grabbed a long curved knife and brought it to Jim's neck.

McCoy took a step towards Ti'Bala. "You bastard! What are you doing?! Stop him!" He snarled at the mantis. His head switched back and forth between glaring at Ti'Bala and staring frantically at the blade that was too close to his best friend's neck.

"Compassion." He paused. "Empathy." Another pause. "My people and I do not know the meaning of these words."

Jim was beginning to squirm and his breaths increased in their pace. The Kabid holding the knife grabbed onto his neck with his other hand. The sharp digits sank into the fragile skin and drew blood, the red liquid dripping down his already sweat-soaked uniform and onto the floor. McCoy's fists began to shake.

"Humans have an almost unlimited capacity for compassion," Ti'Bala continued on as if nothing was happening.

"Dammit," McCoy murmured. His chest heaved as he fought to keep his rage at bay.

He looked on as Jim's fingers clenched together. His knuckles were turning white as the tight grip cut off blood flow. Jim's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

"I get the point, Ti'Bala," McCoy growled, cutting the end of the Kabid's name short. "What do you want me to do?"

"You are going to be a part of my little experiment." The mantis spoke evenly, then smiled.

"And if I refuse?"

Ti'Bala nodded to the guard and he squeezed Jim's neck harder. The choked gasp Jim tried to make through the tight cloth almost made McCoy's already shaking body collapse.

"Okay! I'll do what you want." He glared at the towering bug next to him, but opened his eyes wide when he felt a sudden prick on the side of his clenched neck.

Staring daggers, he turned around sharply—almost running into a different Kabid, this one with a white bandana tied around their head. It was holding an empty syringe, the liquid that was inside dripping slowly to the floor.

"What?" he breathed. His eyes started to droop shut and he felt his knees buckle. McCoy hit the ground hard, the fall jolting his muscles painfully.

"Sleep well, Dr. McCoy," an amused voice echoed in his ears as he fell unconscious once again.

_Shit._

* * *

"Captain?" Smith called out, "McCoy? Uhura?"

Only the soft rustling of the leaves on the trees answered, their thin, twig-like branches scraping gently against each other in the gusts of wind.

Sturgeon threw his hands into the air above his head, growling. "Awe, this is useless, how are we going to find them like this? What if they aren't even here?"

The Lieutenant had woken up nearly 30 minutes ago, flailing clumsily out of Spock's arms and falling to the ground in a heap. The second the man was coherent, he began to complain nonstop.

"We have no choice in the matter, Sturgeon," Spock replied. "There is no way of knowing whether or not that is the case."

The man opened his mouth to speak again, but snapped it shut when he saw Spock's raised eyebrow. The Captain liked to call it the 'Eyebrow of Death' for some reason unknown to him. Perhaps he would ask the next time he spoke with the man.

The path they were walking was similar to the one he saw when he first woke up. It seemed to have been traveled over many times. The grass was overgrown around the edges, but didn't venture far into the gravel-like trail. The path itself seemed to be made out of a material he didn't recognize; it was like nothing he'd ever seen before. If only he could take a sample back with him.

"Nyota?" he called out, cupping a hand to his mouth. He could only hope that she had met up with the Captain, but she could probably fend for herself pretty well out there. The woman could do anything she set her mind to.

"Tim—"

Smith was cut off violently by a shriek, sputtering questions wildly at Sturgeon who was taking refuge behind his back. "Tim!" he yelled. "What's the matter with you?"

Spock turned sharply to the two, looking around for a threat.

"There's a s-snake right there!" Sturgeon stammered, pointing ahead of them while cowering even further behind his crewmate.

Spock peered over to where the man indicated. Sure enough, there was a dark indigo snake on their path. Its eyes were a deep green, the slitted pupils following their every move. It looked like a type of anaconda, though smaller and of a different color, its eyes sat closer to the top of its head. The serpent's black tongue flicked wildly, sensing its surroundings almost frantically.

"It's only a snake, Tim," Smith sighed, rolling his eyes. He put his hand on his hips and stared at the man.

"I hate snakes! That behemoth could kill us all with one bite!" he argued. "Just look at the way it's staring at us, Reed!"

The snake was peering at them calmly, slithering along the path away from them. But every so often, it would turn around and look at them, almost as if it wanted them to follow it. Spock was about to say something when the serpent's pupils rapidly dilated and it stared into his eyes warmly as a presence settled on his mind, worming its way calmly through his numerous mental shields.

" _Hello,"_ a soft voice in his head called to him. _A telepath, interesting._

" _Hello, to whom am I speaking to?"_ he replied easily.

" _I am called many thingsss, but you can call me the Nyokaeim. I am the guardian of thisss world,"_ it answered. " _If you would kindly follow my messssenger, they will lead you to me."_

The two men behind him continued to bicker, arguing back and forth about why snakes were or weren't the most horrendous animal on the planet Earth. Their needlessly loud voices were bouncing off the trees, spooking a nearby flock of birds; the honking and flapping of the animals' wings temporarily distracting them.

" _And why would I want to go to you?"_ he questioned wearily.

Smith playfully hit Sturgeon, as if to gain his attention, and pointed up towards the sky, their mouths open in awe. They seemed very fascinated with the animals.

" _Unlessss you want to be ssstuck here for all of eternity with those two, thisss iss your only option."_

The other consciousness left just as easily as it came, leaving an empty feeling in his mind. _Strange_. While the feeling of loss after a mental connection wasn't uncommon, it was eerily different this time. It was almost as if he longed for them to come back, _ached_ for the connection to once again flow through his mind. He could feel the desire for it deep within him, like he couldn't live without it.

_No, I don't need that._ He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. That feeling shouldn't be a residue of any mind-melding experience, a desire of that level was a dangerous one—he couldn't imagine what it would be like for a human. It would be devastating for the mind.

"Hello? Spock?" Both men were trying to gain his attention, waving their hands in front of his face.

"We are going to follow that snake," he stated calmly, ignoring their blatantly confused stares.

"What? Why would we do that?"

"It is going to lead us to someone who can hopefully help us." He stepped forward confidently, striding after the snake (which had begun to slither quite happily ahead), leaving the others to follow him. "A being reached out and spoke telepathically to me."

The Lieutenants turned to glance at each other, disbelief written on their faces, but didn't question Spock's authority. They each jogged to catch up to him, shaking their heads with wonder.

XXXXXX

Spock had just rounded a curve in the road when he noticed something. He squinted his eyes at a small figure off in the distance. From what he could tell, it was a humanoid. Whoever they were, they were far ahead on the path, seemingly walking quickly towards them.

He stopped where he was (almost causing his men to run into him), and peered closer at the approaching blur. The person's gait was rough, as if they were unfamiliar with the terrain. Their body shape and movements indicated a female, but depending on the species, that wouldn't apply.

The messenger had kept going, slithering smoothly across the gravel, likely not realizing they had stopped.

"What are you looking at, sir?" the Lieutenant asked, lifting his eyebrows.

"There is a humanoid in the distance, Smith."

The man turned his gaze over to where Spock was looking, bringing his hand up to his face to protect his delicate human eyes from the sun. "I don't see anything."

"..ck," a voice whispered in the wind, the word unintelligible from the distance.

Spock stepped forward, walking towards the approaching individual at a steady pace. "Hello?" he called out.

"..ock!" The person came closer, their legs pounding the ground. The rocks under their feet were unstable and the humanoid stumbled a few times. "Spock!" the voice called again.

_I know that voice_. "Nyota?" He yelled to her

"Spock!" Nyota huffed, slowing to a stop as she reached the rest of the crew. "Thank God you guys are okay." She was covered in dirt, turning her red uniform a shade of maroon. A small cut adorned her face above her left eyebrow, but it seemed to have stopped bleeding a while ago.

He breathed in deeply, eyeing the injury. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just a small tumble down a hill," she soothed, the gentle tone indicating that she had acknowledged his concern. "Was anyone else with you when you woke up?"

"I had found both Smith and Sturgeon promptly after I had awakened. Have you seen the others?"

"No, I haven't seen Kirk or McCoy. I woke up only a few hours ago, found this trail, and started walking along it. I figured I was out here alone."

"I'm assuming you were taken sometime after us three?" Spock inquired.

"Yes, I do not know if the Captain or the doctor were taken afterward, though I would assume so based on the pattern," she replied, her expression twisting into a grim one.

_Strange._ If the kabids wished to harm them, why did they end up there?

Sturgeon cut in, "We are following a snake tha—"

" _That was my doing, Spock,"_ a voice echoed through his head, distracting him from the current conversation—the words flowing from his crew's mouths becoming a low drone in the back of his thoughts, as if he was tossed into a lake.

He flinched at the sudden intrusion on his mind, the voice startling him and giving him chills. " _Why?"_ he asked the Nyokaeim.

" _You will see."  
_

Spock looked down at the ground, his immediate surroundings coming swiftly back into focus, the feeling similar to breaking through the surface tension of a body of water. The snake they were following was looking up at him, curled up tightly in the dark pink leaves. It was flicking its tongue at him as if it was about to be fed.

"—telepathically with Spock." Smith finished the explanation and turned to Spock, looking at him; he seemed to be waiting for him to continue.

The Nyokaeim's presence left his mind once again. He sniffed in, shutting his eyes in concentration, trying to keep his desires at bay. _You are in control of your emotions._

"Are you okay, Spock?" Nyota questioned, the soft sound of her voice keeping him grounded.

"Yes, I am fine." He took a deep breath. "We must reach the Nyokaeim."


	5. The Guardian (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO, I know this is suuuuuper late, but I had a huge writer's block, I started watching the Mandalorian (and wrote some fanfiction for it), and I started writing my first novel. This is short-I know-but I didn't wanna leave you guys hanging any longer.
> 
> This is split in half, so is kinda short compared to my other chapters, but I hope you guys like it all the same! :D
> 
> Merry belated Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year! My birthday has also passed in the past months!

**Nyota didn't know where they were going**

Ever since she had met up with Spock and the other crew members, they had been following a strange snake along the peculiar path that she happened to find.

The serpent made her feel uneasy, but she trusted Spock's judgment and had bit her tongue.

She wished that she had not fallen down that hill. Her body ached with invisible bruises and her forehead wound throbbed annoyingly, but hopefully, those were the only injuries she would gain from the mission.

As they continued, Nyota began to notice a distinct change in the colors of the trees around them; the once bright pink leaves adorning the forest were turning a serene shade of indigo—it was strikingly similar to the color of the snake's scales.

She breathed a deep breath, closing her eyes, releasing the growing worry. Spock knew what he was doing.

It had to have been at least thirty minutes of walking, seemingly aimlessly, before they found the entrance to a cave. The cavern loomed over them, casting a jagged shadow, blocking the sunlight from reaching the ground. There were stalagmites scattered along the stone, rising up from the ground like teeth—their points as sharp as knives. Dry dirt littered the floor, a stark contrast to the damp mud covering the rest of the surface of the planet. If she looked closely, she could pick out the remnants of scraped stone, almost as if something had dug its way through the cave many times. The stalactites hanging from the ceiling were broken, and their once sharp points were now shattered.

And the snake had slithered through the entrance without making a sound.

Spock stepped forward, after a moment of hesitation, into the cave, his shape becoming less visible as he went further in.

 _You can't be serious._ Following him, Nyota stepped with haste to catch up to Spock's side with Sturgeon and Smith close behind her.

Soon, the only thing Nyota could hear was their footsteps and Sturgeon's heavy breathing. The Lieutenant appeared to be quickly losing his cool as the mission-gone-wrong continued. Nyota sometimes questioned Kirk's away team members, but Jim probably had his reasons for sending these specific redshirts with them.

Black took over her vision until she couldn't see anything. Testing her eyesight, she waved a hand in front of her face, but she couldn't see it.

"Spock, can you see anything?" she called blindly to him.

"I cannot."

That meant that it was even too dark for someone with enhanced eyesight to see where they were going.

"We should all keep a hand on the right wall to stay together," Nyota called to her crewmates.

"That would be a good idea, Lieutenant," Spock agreed.

XXXXXX

Thinking back on what Spock said earlier, Nyota realized that she didn't even know who or what the 'Nyokaeim' was, And for some reason, it seemed as though no one was going to explain it to her without being prompted.

"Who is the Nyokaeim?" she finally asked.

"The Nyokaeim is the guardian of this planet," Spock replied evenly.

"The guardian?"

"That is who she claims to be."

"But _what_ is she?"

He hesitated. "I do not know."

Nyota narrowed her eyes, thinking about what that could mean. Were they heading into a trap?

"Hello?" Spock called out down the tunnel. His voice bounced away from them, dwindling until there was silence again.

"I thought you said that the Nyokaeim would be here," Sturgeon said from behind Nyota.

"As far as we know, she is here." Spock continued walking, his gait quickening.

It wasn't that Nyota didn't trust Spock—trust was never a problem with their relationship—but the unknown felt stifling amidst the musty air around her. Nothing was what it should have been, and nothing had been what they thought it was going to be.

Her light bond with the Vulcan beside her throbbed with an emotion she had not yet felt from him before. It was dragging her down the tunnel; a strange desire that threatened to overcome her fragile mind, it was the strongest emotion ever to come through their bond.

"Are you okay, Spock?" she asked slowly, a frown no one could see adorning her face.

"Yes…" He hesitated."Yes, of course." The Vulcan sounded distracted, but he made an attempt at sounding more steady towards the end of his answer. There was definitely something going on with him.

XXXXXX

The crew continued their trek through the system, trailing their hands along the wall beside them in hopes of preventing themselves from losing each other. As far as Nyota could tell, the cave was just as dark as it was twenty minutes before. Each step the group took was cautious, falling could have disastrous consequences for them; there could have been sharp rocks littering the floor and they wouldn't have known.

Nyota's soft hands continued to bush the wall, her fingertips feeling every turn and dip in the stone beside her, scraping gently at the dirt encasing the rock as she walked forward.

Unfortunately, her mind could not be at ease. The growing desire flowing through her bond with Spock, as well as the overwhelming fear that came with an unknown and potentially dangerous mission, distracted her just enough to prevent any 'calming down'.

Staring ahead, straining her eyes harder in the dark tunnel, she tried to look for something, anything that could mean an end to the suffocating black.

_There!_

"Do you guys see that?" she called out, hopeful. A slight light shone in the far distance, a beacon of hope in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"It appears to be multiple things, Smith," Spock answered.

"Should we continue towards it?" she asked.

"I believe we have no choice."

As they came closer, the light turned into multiple beacons, each one a different size but all increasing in their brightness.

The tunnel around them was littered with glowing gem-like protrusions; they were sparkling along the sides and shining a cool blue glow upon the crewmembers—but the large lights were still elusive, scattered like far away stars.

Awe spread across Nyota's face, the crystals were beautiful. The color was comforting, though she couldn't quite place her finger on why it was so familiar. She was just glad that her eyes didn't have to work as hard in the now-lightened space.

After a brief period of walking, Nyota and the crewmembers came upon a large snail-like creature. It was a dark blue color and had stripes of glowing illuminance shining harshly into her eyes; it must have been one of the beacons in the distance from before.

"What is that?" she asked, shielding her sensitive eyes. The pomeranian-sized animal (if the thing _was even an animal_ ) slid across the ground, trailing thick liquid as it began to climb up the wall to their left. Nyota smirked, realizing that it was trying to run away from them.

"It appears to be a large land-bering sea snail, Uhura," Spock replied, amazement in his voice.

Nyota couldn't believe it. Every animal they had seen during the mission was just a different or enlarged version of one on Earth. Bugs were sentient, birds were essentially hawks, and now snails were as big as dogs and radiated light.

Unbelievable.

The snail sluggishly moved over to a bright glowing crystal—one that was slightly bigger than the others—and appeared to consume it. _Maybe that was why the blobs glowed…_ she considered.

"I would not touch them, as we don't know if they are poisonous or not," Spock commented, staring at the slow-moving gastropod.

"Roger that," Sturgeon replied, quickly retracting his curious fingers.

Not long after they saw the sea slug, the crew encountered another large gastropod. Lieutenant Smith had almost stepped on the black-speckled blob, only just flinching out of the way when he finally saw it.

"Another one!" the redshirt exclaimed.

This time the snail-like creature was a light tan color, so pale Nyota could almost call it white. Its body had small black splotches and looked fuzzy, as if covered by a smattering of tiny hairs. Looking closer, Nyota could see that it had two ears and a tail.

"Isn't that a sea bunny?" Sturgeon asked, squinting his eyes towards the animal.

Glancing back at the creature, Nyota saw that it _was_ a sea bunny. "It sure looks like it."

The sea snail crawled along the ground beside the crewmembers, not paying them any attention. If she remembered correctly, sea bunnies couldn't actually see, due to their distinct lack of eyes.

She assumed that they would see a lot more of those creatures as they continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking with me and for coming back after this story's small hiatus!


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